


Smitten

by snack_size



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Developing Romance, M/M, Science Boyfriends, clint barton explains it all, shy fumbling bruce, tony is an appreciative lover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-16 14:33:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snack_size/pseuds/snack_size
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce comes back to New York, two weeks after the battle, and moves into Stark Tower and quickly becomes smitten with Tony. They develop a relationship, but Bruce is still shy and timid around Tony and isn't quite sure how he managed to get this lucky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response for the following kink meme prompt:  
>  _So in the film, Bruce appears ridiculously bashful and a little intimidated around Tony. Shuffling and fiddling with things whenever he's looking at Tony, glancing away and ducking his head shyly when Tony looks his way, gazing at him eagerly whenever Tony's back is turned, unable to stop smiling while talking to him or while Tony's talking, etc. Basically as though Tony's the best thing that ever happened to him and Bruce can't believe his luck._
> 
>  
> 
> _I want that subtext to be made text and made romantic. Bruce is completely smitten with Tony, but so shy and nervous and excited he can't just be cool and comfortable with it. He can't quite believe his luck and he's still baffled that Tony likes him._
> 
>  
> 
> _Up to you whether they're in a new relationship or if Bruce is nursing an unsaid crush. :)_

Two and a half weeks. That was it. Bruce had thought, once he got out of the city and back to his natural habitat - well, sort of, he made for Mexico this time, because it was just a land journey - that everything would fall away and he would see those three days for what they were. Strange, extraordinary, some sort of bizarro world where people - one person - was willing to treat him like... Three days where he had control, where Hulk had control, where he was a hero and didn’t have anything he needed to atone for. Well, anything specific to him. He had caught some of the headlines when he flew out of the country, questioning if the superheroes who saved Manhattan were going to contribute to putting it back together. Apparently the destruction had been gratuitous...because there were simpler, less destructive ways to deal with space leviathans.

He talked himself out of his assumptions and back into them, and too often, thought about Stark - Tony, he corrected himself - about the way he had looked at Bruce when he sashayed into the Helicarrier’s main room, the gleeful expression when he had poked Bruce, grinning as if to say, _see, I knew it. Knew it wouldn’t do anything._ How he had been the one there when Bruce had awoken in Stark Tower, wrapped in nothing more than a blanket, a little too manic - Bruce wouldn’t find out until he ended up slipping to the back of their little pack with Thor exactly what had caused that.

 _It’s nothing,_ he told himself, because it was, Tony Stark had been in the same headspace he was - brought in by some shady, extra-governmental security organization to save the world. It wasn’t like meeting someone at a scientific conference. 

Another part of him, though, held onto how Tony had hugged him. _You can come stay any time._ He meant it, he had to, you didn’t just tell people that, right? Bruce didn’t even know anymore.

And now he was back, sitting outside of Port Authority and fingering the phone that Tony had slipped him before he had dropped him off here just two and a half weeks ago. There were a few signs that things were getting put back together in the city, but there was still a faint smell of fire, concrete, and dirt in the air. _This isn’t how things get to work for you,_ he told himself, but then he pulled the phone out. It took a moment to get used to the technology, but soon he found himself hovering over the name on the screen, and he sighed.

“Hey,” he said, when Tony picked up on the second ring. “You know what you said, about somewhere to stay, if...um, offer still stand?”

“Fuck yeah,” Tony replied. “Where are you? I’ll get a flight arranged for you, and-”

“Oh,” Bruce said. “I’m at Port Authority.”

“Of course you are.” Tony said, and there was a pause. “Give me about fifteen minutes, I should be over by then.” 

He stood when he saw Tony walk towards him, and for a long moment they maintained a half foot of distance and stared at one another. Then Tony shook his head, grinned, and pulled Bruce into a loose sort of hug and back pat that caught Bruce by surprise. Tony grinned when he let him go. “Are you hungry? No, never mind, you’ve got to be, you took a bus from _Mexico._ ” 

“Well, several buses.”

Tony shook his head, and Bruce was concerned he might take him to a restaurant - his clothes were dirty, and likely smelled, and Bruce hadn’t really showered since...the shower he took in Stark Tower, after the shawarma and before they handed Loki off to Thor. And now he was sitting in a car with Tony in a suit that cost...Bruce didn’t even have a frame of reference for suits that expensive.

He exhaled when Tony tapped on his phone. “What do you want? Indian? Or are you tired of that? Thai?”

“Pizza?” Bruce asked. “Just - no meat?”

“Of course,” Tony said, and instructed JARVIS to order a large veggie lover’s pizza and have it delivered to him at the tower. “Why wouldn’t I - never mind. So, I thought, you know what I should do with all of the space in the tower? Build a floor for each of you, so that when you’re in town-”

“That’s really...” Bruce trailed off, not wanting to offend Tony. His friend - maybe? “I’ve never had a place to live bigger than 1500 square feet.” And he had shared that.

“Exactly,” Tony said. “And you helped save the world from a guy with some serious daddy issues and his insect army from outer space, so no complaints, alright? Construction’s been going really well...you can help me pick out the drapes. I thought purple.” 

“Purple?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, purple - you like purple? You had a purple shirt on when we-” Tony stopped, then, and his lip quirked. Bruce was surprised to see that Tony seemed self conscious before he allowed a full smile to develop. “Or whatever color you want.”

“I’ll have to see the swatches.” There was a pause, and Bruce glanced down at his hands, and then Tony laughed.

“Very, good, Dr. Banner. Very good. And here we are!” 

“Huh,” Bruce said, and when Tony raised his eyebrow, he shrugged. “I would have thought with...all the construction, you would have fixed the name.”

“Oh, I’m keeping it just like that,” Tony said, and he grinned.

* * *

The pizza was sublime, the crust a little thicker and chewier than it normally came in New York and the vegetables crisp and spread evenly across the cheese. Tony mostly talked while Bruce ate, describing all of the press and _bullshit_ he had gone through since Bruce had left. “Of course, they’re really sick of me - I’ve been around for a few years, now. You know who hasn’t, of course, and is blonde haired and blue eyed and actually has the jawline of a God? Are you done? Do you want wine, beer, mixed drink..?” 

“Oh,” Bruce said, glancing at the clock - it was around eight in the evening. “You don’t have to - I’m sure you’ve got something to do, maybe, with Pepper, or-” Tony flinched at her name, and Bruce glanced down again.

“Hey, no, it’s fine, Big Guy,” Tony said, quickly. “You didn’t know - that was the point, of the conversation, really...you missed some things. Two near deaths in a year is a bit much, especially when you witness one on national television, so. But it’s good. We’re still...we’ll always be close. Too much history, I guess. So, like I said, beer-”

“Wine,” Bruce said, and then tried to back pedal when Tony opened a wine refrigerator and pulled out some bottle that had to be worth...Bruce didn’t even want to think about it. He had forgot, sitting at the kitchen counter and eating pizza out of a box, that Tony didn’t just have a $10 Beaujolais in the fridge. “I mean, we don’t-”

“Bruce,” Tony said, opening the bottle with real, practiced skill. “Life is too short not to have really, truly good wine at least once. So - what’s on your list of movies that you’ve missed while you were traversing the globe, doing good, that you’ve wanted to see?”

“Tony,” Bruce said, with a sigh. “I know you’re - I’m sure you probably have plenty to do.” He felt like he was bordering on being bothersome. 

“But not too much I’d rather be doing,” Tony said, and Bruce met his eyes and did his best not to immediately flinch away. He had, while he traveled, gone way past over thinking things and probably wound up back at simple conclusions - Tony had been pleased to find someone else who was competent to work on the project with him, he was just being Tony Stark, he was... because all of that was easier than the conclusion Bruce had come to and knew, as he buried it, to be true - Tony Stark liked him. He wanted to be his friend.

“Why don’t you pick something,” Bruce said, softly. “I don’t even know where to start.” Tony slid a large glass of wine his way and smiled.

* * *

He slept, the first day, and then showered twice. He tried to protest when he found a dresser and closet full of clothes in the room Tony had put him in, but JARVIS refused to relay any of it to Tony, so Bruce slid into a pair of light, loose khakis and a shirt and tried to figure out what he could do to show his gratitude - after all, even if they were your friend, how many people were in the habit of picking up strays with anger management problems and giving them full run of the house? 

It wasn’t until Tony stumbled into the kitchen that it occurred to Bruce that cooking was a lot more intimate of a gesture than Bruce had initially assumed - it was something he had forgot, and he thought, feebly, _this is why you used to cook for Betty all of the time_ as Tony’s eyes widened. “I figured, when you suggested Indian food, you like curry..?” Bruce said, and waved his hand over the dish. It had been difficult to find a grocery store in the immediate area, and he had wound up almost twenty blocks north before there was fresh produce.

“Ohmygod, Bruce, you have no idea,” Tony said. “What goes well with that? White wine, this time, right? I’ve got a great...”

“I just...threw it together,” Bruce said, but Tony waved his hand as he bent over and reached into the wine fridge once more. Bruce lingered on Tony, probably for too long, and he felt red rise in his own cheeks. Tony Stark certainly wasn’t - this was a platonic intellectual thing, if it was a thing at all, and... _Besides,_ Bruce thought, _it’s not like you can even...or know, for sure, if you can even do that_.

“So, confession,” Tony said, “I knew, even when I packed you off at Port Authority, that you would be back, and hopefully soon - so, I sort of built you a lab, first. I figured you’d be cool waiting on the accommodations and might be more eager to get your hands on Electron Storage Ring.”

“A lab?” Bruce said.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Ten floors of R&D. Just moved some things around. Found a comfortable couch.” He shrugged.

Bruce, of course, knew better than to think that was all there was to it. He did his best to keep his mouth from gaping as he looked through all of the equipment - toys, more like - that Tony had arranged for him. 

“Also, and - I don’t want to be...but, I got the schematics for that glass SHIELD used to make their little storage container and found a way to improve on it, because, it seemed like, when you meant to...things went well, right, and maybe you might..?” Tony didn’t meet Bruce’s eyes as he said any of this, but Bruce nodded.

“Yeah,” Bruce said, because he had spent some time in the jungle, trying this out himself. “He could learn to better play well with others. Hulk kindergarten?” 

“Yeah,” Tony said, grinning slightly. “You think he’d want a tire swing?” 

* * *

Even with his progress, Bruce wasn’t happy when he awoke from his first purposeful release of the Other Guy to find Tony sitting on the floor in the space they had put together over the past week. “I know what you think, Tony, but he’s not...he’s not some dog, you can train, and - are you coloring?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, and held up a picture from a Sesame Street coloring book. “Do you know Cookie Monster can’t eat cookies anymore? He’s got to enjoy them in moderation, and instead has healthy snacks like vegetables and fruit, which is a great lesson! But! He’s the fucking Cookie Monster! It’s like the Count suddenly developing an interest in the ABCs-”

“Tony.”

“Bruce.” Tony said, and cocked his head to the side. “Latest version of the suit in here with me. If it can snap on in time for me to avoid plummeting to my death after getting tossed out of a window, pretty sure-”

“Did you...finger painting?” Bruce asked, looking to his left at the strange, Jackson Pollock like pieces of paper scattered around on the floor. His head hurt, a little.

Tony grinned again, and _damnit,_ Bruce thought, for over the one hundredth time that week, _he looked good when he smiled like that._ “Art therapy. I’m going to put one on the fridge, which one do you like best?”

* * *

It took another six hours for Bruce to slip in by himself, two hours after he told Tony he was going to bed for the evening. He had thought, for a few months at least, that he had initially been incorrect about his heart rate controlling the Other Guy’s appearances. After what had happened with Betty - after several long years of not being able to even...he had been wanting to see if had been wrong, in thinking he couldn’t... but it had never really been safe, and in the few occasions when it was, it wasn’t really conducive for that kind of experiment. Greenland, for example. Too cold. 

Bruce wanted to chastise himself for how often he’d been thinking about it - but he was human, and it had been a very long time. He was making jokes to himself about forgetting, but who was he kidding? It wasn’t, of course, unlike the first times he had dared touch himself when he knew his father wasn’t around - fast, furtive, slightly ashamed. This changed when he peaked and came in his still pale, still small hand. 

It was much better the second time. 

It took a week before he decided that he had run enough experiments that he could probably touch himself in the shower and not get concerned with fucking up half of Stark Tower’s plumbing.


	2. Chapter 2

There were days, sometimes strings of days, when he saw Tony often - one of them would come to the other with a question and they would spend hours working through equations and models. Or Tony, generally, would come with two disparate pieces of things and they would break out soldering irons to put things back together. Or it would start with coffee in the morning, or Bruce trying to watch a television show he had thought he might be interested in. Other times, they ran into each other for a meal and it was alright - Tony, unlike Bruce, had plenty of other responsibilities. 

“And you’re fine that I’m just sponging off of you..?” Bruce said, after Tony sighed after a two minute tirade about one of his corporate directors. Bruce was fairly certain Tony hadn’t inhaled since he started. 

“Are you kidding? No. And, if you really feel bad about it, I think we can file for two distinct patents - under your name, of course, to be purchased by Stark Industries, or however they work that out...” Tony gave him an adorable grimace expression that made Bruce ache in that lower part of his abdomen, a feeling that he hadn’t had in a very long time. A crush, he knew, he had a fucking crush on Tony Stark, and in whose world would this end well? 

“No, fuck, of course,” Bruce said, and Tony’s grimace changed to a smile. “I mean, I don’t need-”

“Oh, shut up, Banner, I did some digging and you don’t have proprietary interest in nearly enough-” Tony shook his head, clearly irritated.

Then Tony went to Frankfurt for four days to meet with investors, and Bruce found himself feeling strange and bored and...lonely. He hadn't felt lonely since he'd moved in with Tony, when before it had been his default state. This shocked him. 

And he wasn't just lonely, but possibly pining, which was embarrassing considering the circumstances. He told himself, many times, sort of as a mantra - he should be content with what he had, here, if someone had told him two months ago this was where he would be he would have laughed in their face.

When Tony returned, it was with an enormous bottle of Jagermeister. “I have not drank this since college,” Tony said.

“Yeah, pretty much...” Bruce said, and he shrugged, slightly. Tony shook his head. Things got better after the second shot, and, for some reason, Tony seemed on a mission to get intoxicated off of the stuff. “I haven’t been peer pressured like this since college,” Bruce said, as Tony slid another shot in his direction. Tony grinned.

At some point, when they were both drunk, and Bruce didn’t remember what started it but he confessed to Tony about the loneliness. 

“That upsets me, Bruce,” Tony said, giving him a serious look. “You should never have had to-” Tony shook his head and leaned closer to Bruce, as though inspecting him, and his look was certainly similar to the one he had on his face before he had first poked Bruce on the Helicarrier.

Bruce’s stomach flopped when Tony kissed him, lips light at first and the only point of contact between him. He had never thought - really, never even considered that Tony might reciprocate how he felt. He made a slight surprised sound and Tony pulled away, and Bruce felt sudden panic at the idea he had ruined anything. “You...want..?” Bruce managed, by way of saving things, and could have kicked himself at how hopeless-

“Fuck, yes,” Tony said, and it was unclear whose hand moved to the back of whose neck first, who pulled the other in closer and plunged their tongue in first.

When he found himself on his back, on Tony’s bed, Tony’s hands pushing his jeans down even though neither of them had taken care of his fly, Bruce said, “Tony - I want, if you want-”

“Generally, I don’t get to this point when I’m still undecided,” Tony said.

“OK,” Bruce said, though his sudden return to reality and consciousness had made panic set in. “Maybe not when we’re..?” Their eyes were very close to one another and Tony’s were wide, liquid brown.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “I like the way you think, Dr. Banner.” He kissed him, hard, then pulled himself down and laid his head on Bruce's chest. Bruce ran a hand through Tony’s hair, fairly certain he wasn’t thinking what Bruce was thinking, at all - Bruce had moved on, by that point, to how awkward this would be in the morning. “Your well considered point isn't going to get you out of spending the night.” 

Both of them knew what needed to be done to prevent another looming calamity the next morning - one bottle of water, alka seltzer, ibuprofen. Bruce was still a little confused upon waking, mostly because he had arms and legs tangled around him and was enveloped by - and who knew, he thought, that Tony Stark was a snuggler? And, he added, _dear godorwhatever, I know I haven’t been...but please, please, let him still..._

Before Bruce could take this further and move back to where he was when he called things off, Tony stirred and kissed at the back of his neck and used his fingers to brush away some of the hair in Bruce's face. “You feel OK?” Tony asked. “You want to get breakfast in bed?” 

They touched and kissed and curled around each other until mid-afternoon while watching movies, and then Tony shook his head and put a hand on Bruce’s neck. “I’m not going to change my mind, you know,” he said.

“OK,” Bruce said. Tony groaned, then kissed him.

Tony was, of course, good with his mouth and Bruce couldn’t help but wonder if he was a disappointment, compared to some of the people Tony Stark may-or-may-not-have made out with. This didn’t last for long, though, because Tony quickly had a hand on his hip and a finger trailing underneath the band of Bruce’s boxer shorts. Bruce thought, for a moment, that this was moving a little fast until he realized the whole half of day, until this point, had been foreplay. 

“Just let me...you just relax, Bruce,” Tony purred into his ear.

“No, it’s-”

“Bruce,” Tony pressed a finger to his lips. “Stop.” 

He slid Bruce's boxers off and slowly rotated his hips into Bruce, holding himself above Bruce on straightened arms. He did this slowly, and it took Bruce awhile to realize he was teasing - _I'm so out of practice,_ he thought, _this is a little-_

“None of that,” Tony said, pulling his hips up and sliding his own boxer briefs off. His hand was on Bruce’s neck again and Bruce could have sunk into it. “Though, maybe I just have to get you used to this.” 

Tony leaned over and grinned, sheepish, when he pulled a bottle of lube out from under the pillow.

“When did you..?”

“A magician never reveals,” Tony said, and coated his hand. He fisted both of them lazily, for awhile, before rolling Bruce on his side and kissing him. He ran a finger along the underside of Bruce’s cock, and Bruce moaned at the thumb that traced a protruding vein. 

Another finger traced backwards and Bruce shivered. It circled, light, almost delicate. “Let me do this for you.” His thumb brushed against the external site Bruce’s prostate, massaging the delicate skin there.

“OK,” Bruce said.

“That was easier than I thought it would be.” 

“Well, you’ve got your hands in all of the right places-”

“I wish I had known that would be all it would take earlier,” Tony said into his ear before he kissed him, darting his tongue in and out before settling for something with deeper contact. Then he went back to fisting his cock. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous.” 

“No, you can...presume,” Bruce managed, Tony laughed and kissed his neck and inhaled near his hair. 

“It’s even better because you have no idea,” he murmured, and Bruce wasn’t really sure what he meant and didn’t have time to really interrogate it because Tony was kissing down his chest and flicking his tongue at his nipples. “I had this great comment,” he said, as he worked between one and the other, pausing to suck hard on one nipple and then shift, “a play on words, about virility and fertility and crop yield and your...” he tugged at Bruce’s chest hair, and Bruce moaned. “But I lost it.”

“It’s OK,” Bruce said, and smiled, and Tony met his eyes and smiled back at him. Then he kissed down Bruce’s stomach, diverted around his cock, and instead worked his mouth against Bruce’s inner thighs. “Fuck, Tony...” 

“Patience, Bruce,” Tony said, and Bruce sighed - _you have no idea,_ he thought. Tony glanced up at him. “Oh,” he said, and then his grin was almost wicked. “All the more reason to be patient.”

“I-” Bruce said, and stopped when Tony kissed the base of his cock and then moved upwards. His lips were as light as possible, and Bruce squirmed. Tony put a hand on his hip and licked around the underside of his cock. He swirled his tongue along the head, then put it in his mouth. “Oh, fuck, Tony-”

“Mmm?” Tony said, and Bruce squirmed again as Tony slowly moved his mouth down. His hand gently cupped Bruce’s balls, and Bruce grabbed some of the bed sheet in his hand and began to run through the periodic table.

Tony was slow and precise, seeming to explore every inch with his tongue and then his lips, noting the various reactions he got out of Bruce and memorizing each spot. He used only his mouth, keeping his hands on Bruce’s hips, and he hummed lightly when he moved up and down the shaft. “Tony, I-”

Tony didn’t say anything, instead tracing his tongue all along the tip of Bruce’s cock before letting it fall back into his abdomen. Bruce pushed himself up, slightly, and was surprised when Tony reached a hand up to his chest and pressed back on him. “Obviously, you haven’t relaxed yet.” 

Bruce opened his mouth to protest and moaned as Tony ran his thumb over his prostate again - and he complied, without thinking too much, as Tony guided his legs up and slid a pillow under him. Then Tony licked down from his balls and into the center of him, and he had to focus on stopping himself from coming just from the thought of what was about to happen.

Tony was just as methodical, each incursion only slightly deeper than the one before, his hands pulling Bruce a little further apart until he was finally exposed. “Tony...god, oh, you’re...god.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Tony murmured before his tongue hit Bruce’s entrance. He swirled it in circles and then flicked it before moving up and down, and it was clear that he had some unnatural ability to predict exactly what Bruce wanted. He moved slowly inwards, tonguing Bruce open, and then he began to slowly fist Bruce's cock again.

Bruce whimpered, and Tony plunged into him sharply, leading him to make an even more undignified noise. Tony slowed, but didn’t stop, and seemed to delight in figuring out the little noises he could draw out of Bruce as he worked. When he pulled away, Bruce shuddered, and Tony slowly pressed his lips back up Bruce’s body before kissing him hard, on the mouth. 

Bruce reached for Tony’s cock, and Tony pushed his hand away. “But, I...” 

“What about what I want, Bruce?” Tony asked, voice soft as he slid a slick finger inside Bruce. “I always want to get my way, for example.”

“OK,” Bruce managed, but he smiled softly as Tony quickly slipped a second finger inside of him, having finally decided to give up on teasing him in such excruciating detail. Tony crooked a finger against his prostate, inside this time, and Bruce bit down on his lip. 

“And I definitely want you to do that, that looks...fuck, Bruce,” Tony murmured, and he kissed him and then sucked on his lower lip before he drew his fingers out. 

He reached for wherever the lube had come from and quickly slid a condom on himself. He finally let Bruce do something - Bruce coated his hand in lube and worked it over Tony’s cock when he was done, twisting his fist slightly. “That’s - that’s certainly making a case for next time, Bruce,” Tony said, and he guided Bruce’s legs up to his shoulders just as Bruce was about to turn. “No, no, need to see you, and...” Tony’s voice was a little softer, there, and Bruce met his eyes.

“OK,” Bruce said, again, and he arched his hips up as Tony moved closer to him. He closed his eyes as Tony’s cock hit his entrance and he only opened them after Tony moved the tip inwards, sensing the other man wanted to hold eye contact through this.

Tony’s movements were slow, and while Bruce had been willing to indulge him before, he found himself a little overwhelmed by the need to have all of Tony inside of him and so he pressed hard against the other man. Tony moaned and inhaled sharply, and Bruce gave him a soft smile. “That was naughty,” Tony said, and a his fingers squeezed into Bruce’s hip enough that Bruce knew they would leave slight marks.

“Oh?” Bruce asked, and Tony grinned as he bottomed out into him. They stayed together like this for a few long moments, their breathe shallow, and then Tony slid all the way out. Bruce let him get his way, this time, orientating himself to the tender sensations and using his legs to pull Tony closer to him - he had very long eyelashes, Bruce realized, and how was it that he had spent a month studying Tony Stark and hadn’t realized that?

“Mm?” Tony murmured, and Bruce almost blushed.

“You’re...very...oh, fuck!” Bruce said - saved by the bell, as it were, and he was glad he wasn’t under any compulsion to say everything out loud. Tony hummed at finding the right spot and orientation, and Bruce canted his hips a little further to maximize the contact. 

Tony controlled the slow build between them, stroking Bruce’s legs and chest and lightly kissing at him as he built up speed. Bruce worked in tandem with him, arching his hips to complement Tony.

Then Tony’s hand was on his cock and Bruce felt that familiar ache in his lower abdomen, the tightness collecting back behind and- “Oh, fuck, Tony! Fuck!” He said. “Yes, that’s...perfect, fuck!” The build was sharper, towards the end, and he came with a deep, low moan that startled him slightly. Tony thrust right through it and wasn’t too far behind, and after he came he rested his head against Bruce’s knee and closed his eyes. Bruce was surprised, for how slow and controlled everything had felt, to see Tony’s hair was wet with perspiration and he was- “Fuck, Tony, that was so, so...fuck.” 

“I’ll be expecting a more comprehensive review when blood flow has returned to your brain,” Tony murmured, then slid out of Bruce. He flicked the condom somewhere - at this point, not high on anyone’s list of concerns - and then curled into Bruce and put his head on Bruce’s chest. Bruce quickly wrapped an arm around him, a little surprised that Tony would switch off his desire for control so quickly.

Bruce didn’t really want blood flow to return to his brain, because he knew the first place it was going to lead him. He made a slight sound and pushed that away, reminding himself that he had a very naked, very post-coital Tony sex wrapped around him and it was the second time Tony Stark had wrapped around him a little over twelve hours. “Next time-”

“That’s good, Bruce,” Tony interjected, and looked up at him with an innocent expression. “Well, I must have convinced you there would, at least-” Bruce had to close his eyes, for a moment, and it wasn’t like he had made it a secret that he was...

“You’ll have to let me-”

“Oh, absolutely,” Tony said, and Bruce was a little surprised when he managed to snuggle a little deeper into Bruce. “What? I know a good idea when I hear one.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce bent over and rubbed at his temple - he’d been doing battle with the same data set for almost half an hour. He was out of practice with this sort of thing - he’d been doing largely theoretical work until now to ease his way back into designing experiments, reconciling data sets, and using all of the fancy things in his lab. When Tony had popped in two days ago he had seemed a little sad that Bruce hadn’t tried out all of the shiny toys he bought him.

He didn’t even hear Tony come into the lab, and he instantly tensed when Tony draped his arms around Bruce’s shoulder’s before kissing his neck, right under his ear. “Sorry,” Tony said, pulling back, “Did I-”

“No!” Bruce said, turning on his swivel stool and meeting Tony’s eyes. Here, Bruce was battling competing influences - half of him was reminding himself _not to fuck it up_ while the other half preferred outright pessimism and was waiting for Tony to admit that it was all just one German liquor-fueled lapse of judgement. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know,” Tony said, rocking back on his heels. “Which is why I snuck up on you - see how that works?” He grinned, and Bruce nodded. “Is that data being belligerent?”

“More uncooperative, at this point - I can’t seem to get the second data set to-” Bruce said, and he turned to face it so he could point something out to Tony. He was much less surprised when Tony put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and turned him back around.

“Not now,” Tony said. “It occurred to me, we haven’t been on a proper date. So I thought we could do that?” Bruce furrowed his brow and gave Tony a nervous smile - not exactly what he’d been anticipating. “Don’t give me that face - you do know you can leave the Tower, right? Nothing some fresh New York air for your constitution - the sweet smell of garbage and urine and-”

“OK,” Bruce said. He knew better than to argue. Tony leaned in a little closer, the same look of interest in his eyes as when he had first studied Bruce on the Helicarrier. Then he sighed.

“Right, I should have - look, I know the restaurant owner, we’ll have a private room, Happy will drive us, no need to worry about snapping pictures...better?”

“Better,” Bruce agreed, though the comment made him recall the pictures he had seen of Tony on the Internet and in tabloids - though he had always been more interested in Tony’s work as an engineer, especially when he decided to develop the Hulkbuster materials. Not that anyone would look at the two of them together and think to label him _Stark’s got a boy toy!_ or anything like that.

Tony leaned back against the counter behind him and seemed to be studying Bruce. Then he said, “I think I understand why those actors go on about invasion of privacy - it was never a big deal when it was just...some person, for that evening, but...” He shrugged his shoulders, and it took Bruce a moment to process what Tony was getting at.

“You don’t have to-”

“I don’t really have to do anything,” Tony replied. “We’ve gone over this. I do what I want.” Bruce arched an eyebrow, because he had no doubt. “Well, for the most part. There are a few things I have to do and they are usually things I don’t want to do, like meeting with Pepper and the lawyers. Except today’s topic might be more interesting than most since we’re talking about Avengers licensing.” 

Bruce groaned, suddenly understanding why Tony had shoved a bunch of paperwork at him about the Hulk and Stark Industries. “Good thing I refused to sign rights over to you.” 

Tony crossed his arms. “I will have you know I have loads of good ideas. Captain Abearica, for example, is going to be-” Bruce snorted, he couldn’t help it. “See?” 

“How did you get Steve-”

“Fun fact,” Tony said, “Howard convinced the US military to sign over all marketing rights after he guilt-tripped them about giving up the search, or whatever.” Tony shrugged, and glanced off in the distance for a moment. 

“So you own Captain America, or just the image rights?” Bruce asked.

“I like the way you think,” Tony said. “I’ll have one of the lawyers look into this - and you, be ready at seven, OK?” 

_Right,_ Bruce thought, but he nodded. 

Later, he would spend an hour getting ready, which was almost fifty minutes longer than he had ever spent getting ready in his life - probably because he hadn’t participated in any teenage rituals and had his first date when he was twenty-two. At least alcohol and college parties had guaranteed he wasn’t a virgin for that. 

The first issue came form not knowing what Tony would turn up in - jeans and some t-shirt, or one of his expensive suits? Also taking up time was shaving, pacing, frowning and running his fingers through his hair, and sitting on the bed and regretting the fact that Tony knew that the Other Guy prevented him from getting ill since feigning stomach flu was a pretty full-proof way of getting out of these kinds of things. No one wanted to insist you go out, only to have you make a mess of the tablecloth. 

Bruce was surprised when there was a knock on the door and Tony walked in, sloughing off his button down and tossing on an _Alice Cooper_ shirt. “You need shoes,” Tony said. 

“Yeah-” Bruce said.

“Let’s pretend we already did all that, OK?” Tony said, sitting down next to him, and where Bruce had anticipated condescension there was something that seemed close to genuine concern. “This isn’t...and I get it, I know, you wouldn’t think it, but behind most playboys is a wounded little - but, anyway, been there, done that, got the t-shirt, you know?” Not really, Bruce thought, but he nodded. 

Tony shook his head, then leaned over and kissed Bruce. For some reason, it made Bruce blush - there was something really intimate about it, like the first few times that Tony had crowded into his personal space and been totally unafraid about it. 

So Bruce kissed him back, even though he still felt that same sense of awe and there was part of him that knew it might not have been the best way to conceptualize their relationship. 

* * 

Bruce tried not to stare, but it was sort of hard - Tony looked different in the dim lighting of the restaurant, and the slightly ruffled nature of his shirt, tie, and hair weren’t helping anything. “Anyway, the next thing I know, they’re talking about sneakers with little blue lights, which, really?” Bruce nodded, a little transfixed by Tony’s mouth, and Tony shook his head. “You OK, there, Big Guy? I told you that you needed to get out more-”

"I. Just.” Bruce looked down and fiddled with his linen napkin. “Like the way you look.” 

Tony cocked his head slightly, a grin spreading across his face. “Well.” Bruce glanced down at himself - even in the clothes Tony had picked out and purchased, he felt a little bit like a mess. “None of that. I also like the way you look. I did when we first...” Tony paused, for a moment, before realizing he had taken it too far anyway. “When we first met.” 

“Huh,” Bruce said, considering this. “Natasha had just extracted me from Calcutta and flown me back-” Suddenly, he remembered Tony’s comments about the purple drapes and was able to connect it to the fact he had been wearing his purple shirt when they first met. Tony had noticed, then, had been looking at him, and maybe not with the same gaze that Bruce had applied, but-

“No wonder you were a little touchy...fifteen hours on a tiny plane with the Widow?”

“I mostly read up on the Tesseract,” Bruce said, though he couldn’t help but grin, slightly. 

“Still, doesn’t matter, point is-”

“You don’t need to-”

“Right,” Tony said, and reached over so he was leaning close in Bruce’s face again, studying him. “I’m not good with talking - well, good with talking, meaning is another thing, I suppose, but. Bruce. Dr. Banner. You’re one of the smartest people in the world and you have great hair. I _like_ you. No more of that.” 

“I bet you say that to all of your dates.” 

“No, not at all, actually,” Tony said, and squeezed his hand - Bruce wasn’t expecting it, but instead of jumping he sighed, slightly, and found himself leaning into the touch. “See? Not so hard.” Tony quirked a grin, and it took a moment for Bruce to realize it was likely related to what he had just said and feeling slightly raw for it. 

He should probably offer something similar. “I’m just not used to...at all, since...people liking me. Let alone _liking_ me.” Let alone someone like Tony Stark liking him, but that really didn’t need to be said.

“We’ll work on that,” Tony said, and nodded to the waiter that was lurking in the door to the small, private room - more of an alcove, but it afforded the necessary privacy - that they were dining in. “Speaking of making everyone more comfortable - they do a mean martini here.” 

“Sure,” Bruce said. 

* *

He had never intended to drink, after his father, but had started as part of his efforts to get up the nerve to talk to one of the other freshman in his Biostatistics Class freshman year. There had been a fear, of course, that he would turn out like his father, but some quick research indicated that he might not be predisposed to addiction and a beer would probably not be cataclysmic - and it had worked as intended, though Kristen was no more interested in him after he had absorbed sufficient liquid courage than when he had been caught staring at her in class and quickly pulled a smile.

Tony certainly responded, but then again, it made things easier when you knew what the general response to your stimulus would be. Aware that Happy was not only Tony’s driver but bodyguard and friend, Bruce kept things to a few stray touches and squeezes of the hand. Tony just grinned at him, and only pulled away when his phone began to vibrate. “Sorry, it’s JARVIS, and he knows better than to interrupt unless...huh.” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Looks like we’ve got company, Bruce.”

Bruce smiled at Agent Barton - Clint, he corrected himself - when he and Tony stepped out of the car and found him loitering in front of Stark Tower. Bruce felt like he hadn’t even met the man - it wasn’t like they had talked, while eating shwarma, and then he had disappeared into the bowels of SHIELD and only emerged for their send-off with Loki. He was dressed similarly to how he had been that day, scuffing his work boots against the pavement while he had his hands stuffed in the pocket of his hooded sweatshirt.

“Seriously, Barton,” Tony said, not missing a beat - like people turned up like all the time and, _oh,_ Bruce thought, glancing down, _I suppose they do._ “Mi casa es su casa. You could have gone inside, got a beer-”

“Don’t you have security?” Barton asked, glancing up at the Tower and not really meeting Tony’s eye.

“Yes, but I assigned you clearance - got all your info from the SHIELD servers, and speaking of security - you haven’t been out here long, have you?” Tony strode into the building, leaving Clint and Bruce to follow. Bruce stood aside and let the archer in the door right after Tony.

Barton just shrugged in response, and looked at the two of them when they got to the elevator bank. “Sorry, did I interrupt? You two on a date or something?” Bruce glanced over at Tony, who raised both his eyebrows and then grinned. “Oh,” Barton added. “That’s cool.”

“Glad you approve,” Tony said.

“Why not?” Barton said. “Nothing could possibly go wrong, two mad scientists-” he looked at Bruce and then frowned, but Bruce shook his head and smiled, slightly. He’d been called a lot worse. 

“You want a beer, or something?” Tony asked, as the elevator opened to the main communal floor. 

“Seriously, I don’t want to interrupt-”

“Did I not say you could stop by, stay whenever?” Tony asked, and Bruce did his best to hide his expression - though, he supposed, Tony hadn’t said it with a hug, since Bruce had been there. But still. “You want to stick with vodka, Bruce?” 

“Why didn’t you say vodka?” Clint asked, and he stood in the doorway for a moment before Bruce sat down on the couch and Clint took the chair opposite him. It was a bit of a relief to have someone more awkward than he was in the room, Bruce decided, and accepted the vodka and tonic from Tony without question.

* * 

“I intended,” Tony said, as the door to his bedroom closed behind them, “to have there be a more immediate connection between the eating part and the naked part, but-”

Bruce shrugged. “It happens. Obviously.” 

“I told everyone - I mean, I did get construction started on those floors...”

Two more drinks had made Bruce realize that he was being a little silly, though it seemed, to him, that Tony was enjoying the jealousy and attention that it brought. Probably because he had sensed that it was motivating Bruce towards being a possessive, and Bruce confirmed this by kissing Tony hard and guiding him back against a wall as soon as they got to the bedroom.

“So long as we’re clear,” Tony said, when Bruce broke in order to inhale. 

“I think so,” Bruce said, and he littered kisses down Tony’s neck while he unbuttoned his shirt.


	4. Chapter 4

Bruce went to the lab for an hour, or two, and then realized that he couldn’t get in the mood to get down to work without a constant prattling presence somewhere in the vicinity. _So_ , he thought, deciding to get the breakfast he usually skipped, _you’re really doing this._ He used to address himself in the plural, as he suspected was the norm for most people. But. Not so much anymore.

“Oh, hey. Tony blast off?” Clint asked, looking up from...a crossword puzzle, which was interesting. Bruce touched some buttons on Tony’s coffee machine hoping some sort of hot, caffeinated beverage would emerge - the last coffeemaker he had used was an ancient Sunbeam so stained Betty was always threatening to throw it away. 

“I think he took the jet,” Bruce said. “Senate committee testimony on...us.”

“Right,” Clint said. “Wouldn’t do to seem cavalier, especially given the reserved image everyone has of him.” 

Bruce turned and smiled at Clint, and then felt like it might be condescending - he really should have picked up on the fact that he was...clever, sarcastic, whatever, at this point. Unless Clint had felt the need to be shy, around Tony and Bruce, for some reason. “What’s a six letter word for bright, third letter is a g?”

“Argent?” Bruce said, turning to retrieve his coffee.

“Seriously? You knew that off of the top of your head?” 

“I used to use it a lot in...papers,” Bruce said, and he leaned against the counter and blew on his coffee, not sure what to do. Thankfully, Clint swung a leg around and pushed the chair out next to him.

“I usually have to look it up,” Clint said, brow furrowed. “Though I’ve been getting better. I started doing them a year ago when I got bored with other methods of not falling asleep when I was waiting for...stuff to happen.” 

“Right,” Bruce said. 

“What type of coffee is that?” Clint asked, leaning over and sniffing at his glass.

“I have no idea,” Bruce said. “It does smell nice though, doesn’t it?” Clint grinned at him, and before Bruce could say anything, took the mug and sipped.

“Caramel something,” Clint said. “If I had none there were syrups flavors in that thing...” 

“I think I probably get it to make the same thing twice,” Bruce said, and Clint nodded before staring back down at the crossword. 

Since it seemed to be going well - and Bruce was surprised, because Tony was the first person he had ever hit it off that well within ever, really. It had taken at least two weeks to get Betty to talk to him again after he spilled coffee down her shirt at a faculty lunch.

He decided to ask Clint a question that had been nagging him. “What have you been up to in town?”

“Oh, I’m back at the office.” Clint said, and when Bruce furrowed his brow, he added. “At SHIELD. Manhattan offices.” 

“I didn’t know there was an...office.” And what did he mean, back at the office - if this was where he was normally located, shouldn’t he have an apartment, or something?

“Yeah, well, we keep that better concealed than the invisible Helicarrier,” Clint replied. 

Bruce didn’t get an answer to his question until that evening, when he and Clint had decided to find out who could find the most ridiculous thing on JARVIS’ video library. Clint was victorious, submitting Reign of Fire and beating Bruce’s submission of Muppet Treasure Island because of its comparative lack of quality. 

At the end, Bruce began to look through the files for another movie to watch - he had got the sense, throughout the evening, that Clint really didn’t want to be alone. “It’s nice, you know,” he said, randomly segueing from another topic, “to stay somewhere that people don’t want to beat your face in.” 

“What?” Bruce asked, and for a moment he felt the dull tidal surge that signaled the Other Guy’s growing consciousness, because all he could think of was his father.

“Here, I used to - well, I live, I guess - in the SHIELD barracks? Though they’re not like...they’re nice, right? But-”

“You were mind controlled.” 

“Yeah, well, some people don't seem to process that.” Clint opened his beer on the coffee table and then frowned at the mark it made. Bruce shook his head.

“Didn’t Natasha...she worked for your enemies, didn’t she?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, but...she didn’t try and kill almost everyone in the organization and have a success rate of - well, math’s not my strong point.” 

“Still,” Bruce said, and then he stopped when he realized he didn’t have much else to offer - he understood the connection people had made. Still, it wasn’t as though they were a pacifist organization. 

“Whatever. Hey. Things are good for you, right?” Clint asked. His grin was a little lopsided, and Bruce looked and checked the bottles that were laying around them. Clint had drank a lot more than Bruce thought he had - not that he was here to police these things.

“Yeah, I guess-”

“I mean, he’s crazy for you, right?”

“Tony?” Bruce asked, and he was tempted to ask whether Clint had been intoxicated the entire time.

“I’m sorry,” Clint said. “I shouldn’t have - I mean, it’s cute, especially from Star-Tony, that’s all. Just unexpected. Not that I really know him. I just feel like I know him, because when Natasha was working, well, spying on him she used to text me and e-mail me all the time.” 

“I see,” Bruce said. “You want to watch The Muppets?”

The next morning JARVIS woke him up by telling him that Clint had asked if Bruce might join him for a drunk brunch. Bruce was a little surprised to see that it was already ten thirty. He was usually such an early riser, though living - sleeping, he reminded himself - with Tony Stark was beginning to shift him to more of a night person. Or a person who is sleeping with an insomniac. 

Bruce was even more surprised to find that Clint was making a full breakfast - eggs, pancakes, sausages, and hashbrowns. “I assumed that since there were these little veggie sausages you weren’t big on meat?” he asked, holding the box up.

“Yeah, thanks,” Bruce said. Clint slid a mug of coffee his way, and Bruce smiled. They sat in silence for awhile before Clint made a coughing sound.

“I’m sorry if I said anything-”

“No, don’t...” Bruce paused, wanting to articulate it right - Clint seemed to have enough that he needed to worry about and over analyze. “I was just taken aback. I guess I just thought...” He looked down at his hands, feeling a little bit like a teenaged girl. He was too old to have crushes, too old to feel this way, and he had just put that out in full display for-

“Oh,” Clint said, flipping two pancakes over with amazing dexterity - though, really, Bruce told himself, he shouldn’t be surprised. “So you...yeah, OK, that makes sense. I mean, no in the way-” Clint added, meeting Bruce’s eyes, “-just, your reaction, when I said. Because he is, you know. It’s pretty obvious. Too bad. I didn’t put any money on you two crazy kids.”

“Money?”

“Betting pool at SHIELD, which two Avengers members would fu-have sex first,” Clint said. “I bet through a proxy, since it would be unfair...”

Bruce smiled, slightly, then cocked his head. “Out of curiosity, who did you bet on?” 

Clint grinned and shook his head.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce knew that Tony would oblige him if he asked for the comfort and reassurance - if he confessed to Tony all of his inadequacies and how he was certain he didn’t deserve to be with someone like Tony Stark. But it would demean their relationship. Both of them were too self aware to participate in something like that, more Tony probably knew everything Bruce would say. It would just be some perfunctory exercise, and it would be the point that they would both use to mark the beginning of the end in their relationship. 

Instead, he welcomed Tony back at the helicopter pad on the roof. Tony seemed pleased by this and bound towards him, embracing him in a hug and kissing him. “Good to see you’re still alive,” he said.

“You had doubts?” Bruce asked, and it was a legitimate question. Most of the time he was good at determining when Tony was being sarcastic or facetious, but there were a few instances-

“Well, you know, trained assassin roaming the corridors,” Tony said. He wrapped an arm around Bruce and walked him back towards the penthouse. “Barton is still here?”

“Yeah,” Bruce said. “He said he...wanted to be somewhere people didn’t want to punch him in the face.” 

“He has that problem often? And they didn’t want to recommend me for the Initiative?” 

“You should save that for him, not me,” Bruce said, and Tony stopped and turned to look at him. 

“You’re right,” Tony said. “But that can be later...right?” Bruce was surprised to hear there was a slight bit of doubt in his voice.

“Yeah,” Bruce said, and they remained immobile for another moment until Bruce began to walk towards the bedroom that he supposed they shared now, because he had slept there the whole time Tony had been away. “How was Washington?” 

“I told Cap about Barton and he made these puppy dog eyes at me and scuffed his feet around and so I also told him that I was planning on building floors for everyone and he perked right up,” Tony said. 

“He’s a good kid,” Bruce agreed, and he was slightly relieved. He couldn’t quite point to why - because it normalized his moving in with Tony, it made him seem less needy? Or because, just like it felt good to find Tony...he would have to think on it later. It had been a long time since his life had been remotely normalized, had included things like lovers and friends and talking over drinks or breakfast.

“Show some respect, Bruce, he’s our leader.” Tony paused. “Though he is, like, twenty-five or something when you subtract the years on ice. He’s kind of sensitive about that. Remind me to stop making capsicle related jokes?” 

“I’ll add it to the list,” Bruce said. “And Congress was...” 

“Oh, you know how those things go...well, wait, do you?”

“I’ve never been called before a Congressional committee, no,” Bruce said, though there were some flashes of memory that were attempting to reassert themselves - rooms in the Department of Defense, General Ross and his cigars outside of some nondescript building. 

“Well, lots of questions, most of them not to appreciative of me but willing to cream their pants over Steve, so it was a good contrast.” Tony shrugged his shoulders while Bruce closed the bedroom door behind them. “Just as they don’t want me privatizing world peace, they certainly don’t want me to be the hero of the hour.” 

“Mmm,” Bruce said, because he knew how that went - and they could talk about that, too, but there were other ways to reassure one another. So he leaned in and kissed Tony, placing a hand on the side of his face to guide him into the correct position and another behind Tony’s head to run through his hair. 

“I thought about this,” Tony said.

“Oh?” Bruce asked, and kissed at his neck instead, to give Tony the possibility to speak. 

“And this,” Tony said. “Bruce, I - never mind, keep doing that...” Tony said. Bruce had begun to unbutton Tony’s shirt, still crisp from whatever official function he had attended. Bruce ran fingers down Tony’s chest and circled his nipples, then moved them towards the Arc Reactor. “Is it..?”

“It itches,” Tony said. “Or it burns.” Bruce leaned down so he was on his knees and kissed gently near the border of the reactor, but not on it, and then tongued a nipple. Tony’s shirt framed him on either side, and Tony shuffled backwards towards the bed. “Bruce.” 

Bruce pushed him, lightly, and Tony sat down. Bruce kissed down his abdomen as he unbuckled Tony’s pants. Tony lifted so that Bruce could pull them down and let them puddle at his ankles. _You can do this,_ he told himself, though he felt something in him surge at taking control like this - nothing that harkened the Other Guy, it was more of the kind of fear that Tony wasn't interested in him or the sense that Bruce might regret this. _You can give something_

“I told you I missed you,” Tony said, as Bruce palmed his erection, still covered with underwear, and then pressed against it, eliciting a groan. He smiled. He had thought about saying something silly, about being playful as well, like _happy to see me,_ things that worked for other people. 

Bruce pressed and then ground his palm in a circle as Tony ran his fingers through his hair and twisted. Bruce sighed, and then tugged Tony’s boxer briefs down, again with Tony’s assistance. 

Bruce knew how to do this - and he had to momentarily push back on a few unpleasant memories, lifting his eyes upward to make contact with Tony’s. He tugged at Bruce’s hair, and Bruce licked a strip up from the base of Tony’s cock to the tip. 

“God, you’re perfect,” Tony said, and Bruce focused on teasing around the tip, twisting his tongue around and finding Tony’s most sensitive spots. Not surprisingly, Tony was kinetic through the process, hands in Bruce’s hair, on his shoulders, and on his face. Bruce took him down slowly and this seemed to relax Tony slightly. But then he jerked when Bruce palmed his balls and let a finger ghost backwards-

Bruce released Tony with a slight pop. “I’m sorry, do you-”

“No, god, proceed,” Tony said. “With wherever you’re taking this. And, uh, just in case...” Tony kicked at his pants. Bruce reached into the pocket and found a packet of lube. 

Bruce smiled and took Tony’s cock down again, keeping his lips soft as he moved up and down the shaft. He kept his one hand soft on Tony’s balls, rolling them as he sucked. The other opened the lube, slicked his fingers and began to probe Tony’s rim. 

“This is why scientists are the best to do it with,” Tony said simultaneously . “Dexterity, ability to do two or more things simultaneously...oh, fuck!” He finished, as Bruce finally pushed inward with a single finger. 

He slipped another in almost immediately, just as he circled his tongue along the tip to compensate - he had gathered, from the previous times they had slept together, that Tony liked certain things rough, but only moderated by affection. 

Bruce found his prostate without much effort, and Tony began to moan in a way that was loud and wanton. Bruce focused, pulling his mouth off and primarily used his tongue as he worked his fingers against Tony. “Oh, god, Bruce...fuck, you are...” 

Tony tugged hard at his hair, then, and Bruce took him back down and quickened his pace, understanding the signal. It did not take much longer for Tony to come hard spurts in Bruce’s mouth, and Bruce slowed easily. He circled his fingers gently to coax Tony through the rest of it, then pulled them out.

He gave himself a moment to catch his breath before straightening and looking up at Tony. He had his head lolled to one shoulder and looked down at Bruce with the most relaxed expression Bruce had seen on the other man. “Dr. Banner.” 

“Yes?” Bruce asked, and he climbed up on the bed and positioned himself next to Tony, so that he could fall back into Bruce’s chest and Bruce could stroke his hair. “You know I’m not actually a doctor, right?”

“Well, you have a doctorate?” 

“Two,” Bruce said.

“Overachiever,” Tony murmured. 

* *

“I ordered food,” Clint said, when the two of them walked into one of the living rooms. They had asked JARVIS where Clint was located. “Everyone likes Lebanese?” 

“Do they?” Bruce asked, glancing at Tony - he approved of Clint’s choice. Tony could do with better nutritional choices, and it seemed like doing this by slowly altering his takeout choices might be wise.

“Yeah, feta cheese, right - and halloumi, love halloumi. You got baklava, right, Katniss?” 

“What do you take me for?” Clint asked, and looked mock offended. “I watched you on CSPAN. Well done. Though someone needs to intervene and get Steve some pants that don’t go up to his armpits - most of the Internet, however, has decided that he is the only man on earth who make grandpa pants attractive.” 

“Aren’t you a little old for tumblr?” Tony asked, and he settled down on the couch opposite the one Clint was on. Clint shrugged his shoulders and glanced at Bruce, who suddenly realized that his hair was probably everywhere and - then he realized Clint was likely prompting him to sit down. So he sat next to Tony, maintained a modicum of distance for a moment, and then leaned against Tony. 

“Some might argue that you’re a little old to be wearing your hair like that,” Clint replied.

“You going to let that stand, Banner?”

“I’m not involved,” Bruce said, holding his hands up. “Completely between the two of you. I’m watching - what is this?” 

“Oh. _Arrested Development?_ ” Clint said. “Oh, come on, neither of you knows...well, there goes the weekend. JARVIS, can you put the first episode on?” 

“Aw, isn’t this nice?” Tony asked, grinning at Bruce, and Bruce nodded.


End file.
